I Don't Know Why
by Herm Weasley
Summary: series of diary entries . . . . I don't know what else to say, please just read this and review.


Dear Diary, 

He looked at me today. I don't know why, but He did. We were in the common room, talking about Quidditch, when Seamus asked Him if he knew who was going to be the captain of the team this year. He turned his head and looked straight at me. I don't know what made him look at me when they were talking about the captain of the team. I'm not even on the team! The point, diary, is that He thought of me. He thought of me! At least he knows I'm alive. 

When His eyes connected with mine, My insides turned to mush. It always happens, every time I see him in the halls, in a class, in the common room, at dinner. My knees start to knock together and I can't stand anymore. It's worse than the jelly legs curse. 

Dear Journal, 

I know this is going to sound corny, but I think I'm developing a crush. We were talking in the common room today about who the captain of the house quidditch team might be. For some reason, Quidditch made me think of Her, and I, in my idiotic stupidness, turned around on the couch to look at her. 

She looked ill, Journal. Idon't know why, but she did. Maybe I shouldn't look at her anymore. Perhaps that makes her ill. I've never heard of anyone getting sick because someone looks at them, but in they are discovering new things everyday. Maybe this is some undiscovered effect of what happens when someone who you hate looks at you. 

Dear Diary,

He wasn't at breakfast today. I don't know why, but he wasn't. Maybe he had something better to do, although what's better than breakfast I don't know, because that's the only time I can look at him and put it down to tiredness. I hope he hasn't gone off to do something stupid. He does that quite often. Like back in his second year when he made the Poly Juice Potion in the bathroom where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is. Of course, I didn't know that then. Nobody did. 

I hope he doesn't hurt himself. 

Dear Journal,

I skipped breafast today. I didn't think I would be able to face her. Now I'm not so sure if that was a good idea. Even though a herd of butterflies had taken up residence in my stomach at the thought of her, I was still filled with an odd sense of anxiety. I don't know why, but it was still there. 

Maybe she has the same feelings for me?

No, she would never think of me that way. 

One can always hope, though.

Dear Diary,

Today Professor Trelawney gave us loads of homework. Usually she doesn't give us that much, but for some reason today she did. I don't know why. I knew I wasn't going to be able to do it, because it was all on the planets and their effect on our personalities. I didn't quite understand what she was asking us to do. He offered to help me. 

I couldn't say anything, Diary, they way he was looking at me was. . . weird. He doesn't look at me all that much, and when he does, it is usually just a glance. But this time, it was different. His gaze bore into me, looking straight into my eyes. You want to know what he said, Diary? He said, " You have pretty eyes."

I think that is the firs complement he has ever given me. 

Dear Journal, 

I don't know why I hadn't noticed it earlier, but she has the prettiest eyes I've ever seen. There this bright color, and when she's happy, they shine with flecks of gold. I helped her with her astronomy homework today. I gave her the all time motto to live by when concerning that class. When in doubt, make it up. She came up with some pretty good ideas. I don't know why I never noticed it before, but she has a great imagination.

Dear Diary,

I don't know why I did it, but I did. Late last night we were in the common room alone, finishing our homework. we've done it lots of times before. For some reason, he always stays up real late. Later than I do, and usually I don't go to bed till after midnight. I don't know why this time was different, but it was. I asked him what he looks for in a girl. He looked at me weird again, and then said, "All I ever wanted was you." 

Dear Journal, 

I don't know why I did it, but last night she asked me what I looked for in a girl, and I answered "All I ever wanted was you." I thought, in the way she said the question, that she might be interested in me, but when I saw the shock on her face when I answered, I knew it was not so. 

I don't know why, Journal, but I couldn't take it anymore. I dropped my book and walked out, leaving her there. 

Dear Diary,

I was worried at first, when he didn't show up at breakfast today. He also wasn't at lunch. After I thought about it, though, I realized why. He didn't want to face me after what happened last night. He must have meant what he said. If he hadn't meant it, he would have been at breakfast, because he wouldn't be ashamed of what he had said. But the fact that he is ashamed enough not to show up at meals means he did mean it. He must have! I don't know why he is ashamed, or embarrassed, or whatever it is that he is, but I do know, now, that he won't take the initiative. I'll have to do it myself. 

Dear Journal, 

I feel like such an idiot. My stomach must agree with me, because it's been growling all day, but I can't bear to go into the Great Hall had see her laughing at me. Not that she would laugh out loud, she's to nice for that. But I know she would laugh inside, where nobody but her would hear it. For some reason, my chest hurts when I think of that, and I start to cry. I haven't cried in seven years. I don't know why I'm starting know. 

Dear Diary,

You won't believe what I had the courage to do today! When he missed dinner, I decided that I had to do something. Even if I was wrong and he didn't like me, I couldn't let him starve. I don't know why, but for some reason I had the strength to search him out and talk to him. I have never talked to him before, not really. I dont know why I could know. 

I found him sitting on the couch in the common room, where he had been sitting the other night when he said what he did. 

I stood in front of him, waiting for him to lift his head and see me. When he did, Diary, I could see his eyes. I don't know why, but his eyes were sad, and I thought I saw tear stains on his cheeks. But they only made him all the more appealing. 

"Did you mean it?" I asked him.

He looked at me. I was scared that he was going to say no, I had to hide my hands behind my back so he wouldn't see them shaking. 

"Yes." It came out as a whisper, so quiet that I thought I had imagined it. When he didn't open his mouth to speak again, I realized he had said it. you don't know how happy I was to hear him say it, Diary. It was like music, so sweet and beautiful. 

I knelt before him, so we were eye to eye. Carefully, I took his chin in my hand and kissed him softly. I felt him stiffen, and I thought for a brief instant that he had lied to me, he didn't really mean it at all. 

"If that's what I get for telling you I like you, I don't know why I didn't do it sooner." He said, chasing all my fears away with his smile. 

Timidly, afraid that I would loose what I had just gained, I said to him, "Neither do I.ᔌ


End file.
